American Dreams Trilogy

by Michael Phillips

  “What do you mean, Wyatt,” he said. “I am missing no shirt.”

  “You didn’t lose that earlier today?” he said nodding toward the shirt on the ground.

  “I did not lose a shirt.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, I believe I have seen you in that before.”

  “I don’t know how you could have seen me in it.”

  “Have it your own way. You won’t mind if we just have a look around, then?”

  “Do you mean like your friend Murdoch did?” asked Richmond, “rummaging through our home, treating my wife rudely…. I am afraid if that is the sort of thing you have in mind, then I do mind, Wyatt.”

  “So you refuse to let us carry out a search?”

  “For what purpose do you want to search Greenwood.”

  Wyatt, who had been absently glancing about, suddenly spun around and took a menacing step toward the man who had once been his father’s friend.

  “To look for runaway slaves, you old fool!” he shouted. “What do you think we would be looking for!”

  “Wyatt,” said Richmond, staring straight into his eyes, “if you were to ask with a gracious tone, and have good reason for doing so, and were respectful to my wife and workers, of course I would let you go wherever you wish on Greenwood land. But if you cannot speak with more respect than you just have, whatever our differences may be, I am going to have to ask you to leave my property.”

  Wyatt uttered a vile imprecation, then walked to his horse.

  “You cannot win, Davidson!” he yelled rudely. “You will be found out!”

  Fifty-One

  Events quickly overtook Seth’s enthusiastic outlook about his future. President Lincoln would be delivering no speeches in Boston anytime soon. Whether he would be photographing portraits of Cherity only time would tell.

  Midway through the morning, word suddenly clattered by telegraph into the offices of the Boston Herald that preempted all the other day’s news. Everything planned for the front page was immediately scrubbed. Within the hour, new headlines read:

  “War Breaks Out. Insurgents Fire On Ft. Sumter. Battle in Charleston Harbor Rages. Civilians gather on rooftops to cheer.”

  After returning to the Herald building from his morning at the Phillips’ studio, Seth’s first thought when he heard the news was for Jeffrey. Had his ship reached South Carolina and was he now involved in the fighting?

  He searched the editorial offices for James Waters, but he was nowhere to be found. As he had the day before, what remained of Seth’s afternoon was spent in typesetting, helping to prepare an extra edition that would broadcast to all Boston that war had begun.

  Seth returned to the Waters home late in the afternoon as the edition he had been working on hit the streets. Cherity’s father had been home for several hours. Seth found father and daughter in the kitchen. The serious expressions on their faces made it obvious that they had heard the news.

  James was seated at the table, staring straight ahead. His face was pale.

  “You heard?” said Seth, walking in and sitting down.

  James nodded. “I came home as soon as word began to spread around the office,” he said. “I suppose there are historic stories to be written, but I wanted to be with Cherity.”

  “What does it all mean, Daddy?” asked Cherity. “What will happen?”

  “Do you remember when we were in Kansas?” James asked.

  “Of course.”

  “You were reading dime novels then about make-believe stories. But now the country is facing a real-life tragedy. It means that our country may be falling apart… or else about to break into a terrible war no one can stop.”

  They sat for a while contemplating James’ words.

  “But… I still don’t understand why,” said Cherity. “I know what’s happening. But I cannot see why—what good will it do either side?”

  “Probably none,” answered her father. “The conflict five years ago was about whether Kansas should be admitted to the Union as a slave or a free state. In a way, this war is still over the same question—but whether people should be slaves or free.

  “They say it is about states’ rights. But it’s not really about that either. States’ rights are perfectly secure. But leaders in the South see their power diminishing as free states more and more outnumber slave states. Yet for the life of me I cannot understand the mentality of those who want war. Pro-slavery forces still control the Senate. Lincoln says slavery will not be tampered with where it already exists. Perhaps our Virginian friend can enlighten us as to why the South seems bent on its own destruction,” James added, glancing at Seth with expectant expression.

  Seth shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I think it’s idiotic to send the country into a war when nothing is really at stake. It is like you said—slavery is secure in existing slave states. The Senate still supports slavery. So why do they want to form their own country? I think it’s nonsense.”

  “You don’t sound much like a Southerner,” said James. “But then neither does your father.”

  “I am a Virginian,” said Seth. “But I am also the son of Richmond Davidson.”

  “Then what is this war about?” asked Cherity again.

  Both men glanced at each other and shook their heads.

  James closed his eyes and began to breathe rapidly. His face grew yet more pale. Seth glanced at Cherity in concern. She had taken note of the change and recognized the look on his face from the previous episode.

  “Daddy… what is it?” asked Cherity in alarm.

  “What do you mean, dear… I’m… I’m fine….” In spite of his words, James’ voice was weak.

  “You look… tired and pale.”

  She stood and walked over to his chair. “Seth and I are going to help you to bed.”

  James seemed to come to himself and glanced at his daughter with a thin smile. He struggled to draw in a deep breath and winced slightly as his hand went to his chest. Gradually his breathing eased. “This news has, I suppose, been a blow,” he said. “Now that you mention it, I do feel rather tired. It has been a stressful day.”

  “Daddy… let me send for the doctor.”

  “Don’t be silly… I’ll be fine. It is just this terrible news. I’m worried for the country, my dear. I shall be fine. I would like a cup of tea, if you don’t mind. Actually,” he added, “I think I will let you help me up to my room, and I will take it there.”

  The next few days answered many uncertainties, even though Cherity’s question, Why? remained a tragic conundrum. After a day and a half of ceaseless bombardment, Major Anderson ran the white flag of surrender up Fort Sumter’s flagpole. He and his men were soon on their way North, with a Confederate flag flying over Ft. Sumter in place of the Stars and Stripes. The first battle had produced no casualties and had resulted in a resounding victory, as it was hailed in South Carolina, for the Confederacy. Optimism for a quick, painless, and easy victory swept through the South.

  As the Union had a regular army of a mere 17,000 men, mostly on duty in the West, on the 15th of April President Lincoln called on the states for 75,000 volunteers to serve for three months. He was clearly expecting widespread fighting. Two days later, the president offered the field command of all Union forces to the most capable and experienced man in his army, General Robert E. Lee.

  Lee hesitated, postponing a decision until he saw what his native state would do.

  Virginia seceded from the Union on April 18 and the capital of the new Confederacy was moved from Montgomery to Richmond. Within the week, however reluctantly, Lee offered his services to the Confederacy and was given command of the Army of Virginia.6

  Lincoln’s call for troops was received in the South as a summons to war. Suddenly Confederate flags could be seen across the river from Washington, D.C., and Lincoln feared an invasion and takeover of the capital before Union troops could reach Washington to defend it.

  Tennessee, Arkansas, and North Carolina followed Virginia�
��s lead and seceded to join the Confederacy. In every city and community throughout both North and South, passions ran high. Young men flocked by the tens of thousands to join the fight. So many joined on both sides that thousands were sent home.

  The news of Virginia’s secession, and Lee’s decision, were more bitter blows to Seth than had been the firing on Fort Sumter. He was now a young man torn between two countries. He hardly slept that night, his mind tormented by uncertainties and anxieties, confused thoughts and indecision.

  What he would have given for an hour with his father to put everything into perspective!

  James Waters spent most of the next day in bed tended by Cherity while Seth went into the city to work.

  The outbreak of war, however, changed everything. He found it difficult to concentrate. Everyone at the paper, as was the entire city, as was the entire country, was swept up in war fever. Seth could think only of Greenwood and Cherity and James and Cynthia and Robert and his parents.

  It was with great relief that he returned to the Waters home that evening to find James up and about and fussing at Cherity for babying him. The color in his face had returned and he seemed back to normal. Everyone’s spirits were buoyed as a result.

  The next several days passed like a blur. Seth continued to go into the city to work. Gradually he settled into a routine, learning the ropes at the paper. His apprenticeship with Mr. Phillips the photographer progressed rapidly. He began taking photographs and learning to process the chemical baths to develop them. The doctor called at the Waters home, but offered no more information than Cherity had already confided to Seth. And every day brought fresh news of national import that seemed to heighten tensions and ensure all the more that terrible things were on the horizon. Both armies, reports said, were growing by the tens of thousands. The clash when it came was destined to be horrific.

  Seth spent the evening after the announcement of Virginia’s secession writing to his parents, trying to put his thoughts into words, once again asking what they thought he should do. He had begun to wonder, he shared with them, whether his presence in the Waters home for an indefinite time as a guest was entirely proper, though, with James’ health as it was, could he be useful? He shared briefly about James’ medical condition which he knew they would be concerned about. He had wanted to talk to James about room and board, but had not found a suitable opportunity to do so. Should he, he asked, seek lodgings elsewhere? He was also anxious to know the mood in Virginia now that, technically, Greenwood was no longer even part of the United States. Finally, he asked his father’s opinion of recent events, inviting him to share whatever insights and thoughts he had. As for himself, he confessed himself troubled and confused by developments.

  Fifty-Two

  On the second Saturday afternoon following the outbreak of hostilities at Fort Sumter, Seth and Cherity went riding again in the afternoon. The mood was different. Both sensed that a change had come, that the innocence of youth had suddenly vanished in a past they would never know again. The happy season of their visit during the harvest at Greenwood a year and a half earlier and even their happy ride of a week ago now seemed fading into a mist of pleasant memory, while ahead loomed a future of uncertainty and doubt. It was a time to reflect and assess where they stood in a suddenly dramatically changed world. “What will you do?” asked Cherity as they went. “Will you enlist to fight too, like they say every young man in the country is doing?”

  “For which side would I fight?” laughed Seth morosely. “My loyalties are so confused I don’t know what to think. I am a Virginian in Boston, a Southerner in the North… what am I supposed to do? It’s not as if I could fight anyway? Me… kill another man? I do not think I could—even if I believed in a cause with all my heart. But there is no cause here that I believe in at all, except that the states of the South are wrong. I could certainly never kill for the cause of slavery. I hate slavery and I could never fight to preserve it. I would sooner fight to abolish it. But even for that, I don’t think I could kill. How can Americans fight against themselves?”

  “Aren’t wars part of history?”

  “A tragic part. They only happen because men are stupid, greedy, and arrogant. I hate the very thought of it. This war especially is just so wrong!”

  “Will you go home then?” asked Cherity.

  Seth sighed. “Of course, there is nothing I want so much, in one way, as to be home and with my parents right now. But to go home, now that Virginia has seceded, would put me right in the middle of Southern sentiment where, if I didn’t fight for the Confederacy, I would probably be more ostracized than before, and maybe cause danger for my family. At least this far north I can blend in. My accent betrays me, I suppose, but I’m in no danger of being beat up or hanged or shot. I don’t know what to do. I ask myself that same question every day—what should I do? Until I hear back from my father, I will do as he taught me—just do the thing that is set before me. So every day I will go to work and try to do the best job I can, until the Lord indicates that I am supposed to do something else. Sure, I feel an obligation to the country. But like I said, on which side do my loyalties lie? If there was only some way to fulfill my duty as an American without taking sides with either the Union or the Confederacy. I am very torn.”

  “Who knows… maybe God will show you such a path to walk.”

  Seth glanced over in surprise, not knowing how to respond to Cherity’s statement. She was looking in the opposite direction and did not see his questioning expression.

  A brief silence followed. The next words changed the subject in an unexpected direction.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” asked Cherity. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you break off your engagement?” she said. “No, I don’t mean it like that—I’m sorry. That was too blunt. It’s just that you and Veronica seem so very different. It has puzzled me all this time. That’s probably not a fair question either, I just—”

  Cherity glanced away, her face suddenly very red. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut!

  “No, that’s okay—I don’t mind,” said Seth. “I’ll answer your questions—yes, we were different. That’s why I broke it off, because I finally realized how little we had in common. There was no real friendship between us. She doesn’t even like horses.”

  “How can anyone not like horses!” exclaimed Cherity.

  “That was Veronica,” laughed Seth. “And really… I have you to thank.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting me out of the engagement.”

  “Me… what are you talking about?”

  “It was your visit that made me see how little Veronica and I had ever really talked or shared about anything. After you and your dad left, I began to realize—”

  Seth stopped himself. Now it was his face that began to grow warm.

  “Let’s just say that I never had so much fun with anyone in my life as with you during those two weeks,” he added. “Veronica suddenly seemed very, very boring.”

  “I think I will take that as a compliment,” said Cherity, a hint of playfulness in her tone. “But… how did it happen then? I cannot imagine you proposing to her.”

  “Actually… I didn’t.”

  “Then how did you become engaged?”

  “It kind of came about by accident.”

  “You said something like that the day you came. But how can something so important as an engagement happen by accident?”

  “Do you really want to hear about it?”

  “Only if you want to tell me.”

  “It’s horribly embarrassing, but… well, maybe it’s been long enough that I can finally see the humor in it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, Veronica invited me to dinner with her family…”

  Seth went on to recount the details of the fateful evening at Oakbriar and his unpleasant conversation with Denton Beaumont.


  “That is hilarious!” laughed Cherity. “Now I see why you say it just sort of happened.”

  “By the time I realized the mess I was in,” said Seth, “I was too embarrassed to own up to it and face the music. I didn’t even tell my parents and that was something I had never done before. Well, eventually I did, but it took me long enough. I should never have let it go on so long.”

  “What happened when you did?”

  “Veronica yelled at me and said she never wanted to see me again—which she hasn’t—and her father said some insulting things, and I left with my tail between my legs… but greatly relieved to be out of the pickle I had gotten myself into!”

  “That is really a funny story!”

  “It wasn’t funny at the time! And there have been dangerous consequences—the vendetta against me and Greenwood has been terrible.”

  Again it was silent for a minute or two. Then Seth spoke.

  “All right, then,” he said, “it’s my turn to ask you a personal question.”

  “Uh… I suppose fair is fair,” rejoined Cherity, having no idea what Seth might be thinking.

  “Something has changed about you since I saw you last,” said Seth. “I don’t just mean that you’re older… you seem, I don’t know, more at peace with yourself and life and everything. There have been a couple times, if I didn’t know better, when I’ve looked in on you sitting beside your father’s bed… that it seemed like you were praying. And then that comment you made a minute ago, that God would show me what I’m supposed to do. I guess what I’m asking is… are you… I mean, do you still consider yourself an atheist?”

  Cherity smiled. “No,” she said. “I know now that everything you told me about God is true.”

  “Why the change?”

  “Actually, it happened when we were in Virginia with your family. I wanted to tell you before we left, but I suppose I was a little embarrassed at first too. I just couldn’t find a good time. It’s hard to talk about such personal things. I mean… it’s not that hard once you are talking, but it’s hard to bring them up out of the blue. Do you know what I mean?”